1. The Radio Traffic Report

Delivering a traffic report in Southern California is like telling a person being tortured, “Hey, you’re being tortured!  Specifically, you’re being waterboarded, and it appears you’ll continue to be waterboarded for the next forty five minutes!”

You would never give a bus report notifying riders that “The 34 has standing room only this afternoon, and smells faintly of vomit!”  Stating the obvious to a powerless audience is unnecessary and mean spirited.

When I’m sitting at a dead stop on the freeway, I don’t need to be told that “traffic is sticky through the Golden Triangle.”  It’s 5:30 PM on a weekday and it’s raining.  The Golden Triangle looks like a scene from an apocalyptic movie where everyone is fleeing a burning city at the same time.  Just like yesterday.  There is no need to call the futility of my situation to my attention every fifteen minutes.

2. The Too Much Urgency Driver

Haven’t you been listening to the traffic report?  It’s sticky through the Golden Triangle!  Throwing up your hands in exasperation when I refuse to rub bumpers with the car in front of me and inching sideways across five lanes of traffic to progress a total of twelve yards isn’t going to get you home any faster.  You won’t be intercepting this month’s issue of Jugs from the mail before your wife sees it.  Sorry!

3. The Too Little Urgency Driver

You could have made it through that yellow light if you tried.

4. Road Noises on the Radio

Who first decided that adding the sweet sounds of an emergency vehicle to a jam made it cooler?  (It was probably Homer.  Get it?  Siren song!  Sorry…)

Sampling gun fire and police chases may help you convey your song’s main themes (i.e. When you’re thug, even hollering at bitches in the club can carry an element of danger), but it also makes it unpleasant on the ears.  Additionally, it causes me to slam on my brakes and curse you as I attempt to re-regulate my heart rate.

Example: There is this Destiny’s Child song that features an inexplicable, single honk of a car horn somewhere near the end.  From what I can tell, this honk serves no musical purpose and has nothing to do with the primary question posed by the lyrics: “Charlie, how your angels get down like that?”  When this song comes on the radio, I become immediately distressed, anticipating this mysterious honk.  No matter how thoroughly I prepare myself, when this moment comes, I always jump and wave apologetically to the driver next to me before I realize Beyonce has gotten me yet again.

There is also a siren in a song by The Script.  Seriously, THE SCRIPT!  This is even less acceptable.  If you need a siren to paint a picture of gang violence and/or all-night partying, you are a bad song writer.  If you need a siren to illustrate the critical condition of your broken heart, you are a bad song writer and also a pansy.

I am tense enough during my commute; squealing brakes, shattering glass and big rig horns masquerading as percussion or serving as an intro to the aforementioned traffic report are unnecessary, and frankly, a hazard.

5. Visitors to San Diego

How nice for you that you’re on vacation and not in a hurry!  Don’t let those pesky Speed Limit 50 signs make you feel guilty about poking along at a slow roll and enjoying the view!  Nope, that’s not a parking spot either, but go ahead and brake suddenly again just in case!  By all means, stop in the middle of the road to inquire about the whereabouts of Sea World, I’ll just hang out in the lane behind you!  No worries about swerving out in front of my car on that rented cruiser, those babies can be tough to manuever!  Whoops, you accidentally took up five spaces with your RV!  Enjoy your stay, you’re not ruining my life at all!